Cruel Injustice
by The Great Ahtnamas
Summary: I suppose some would call me a monster, some a demon, and many, the King of Evil. But what is a King of Evil to a race of evil? Wouldn't a god seem demonic to a demon? Or a monster, monstrous to a beast? Such words are subject to opinion, and no more.
1. Fate

Part I: Nothing

Cold… quite cold. Certainly, this was the day of death. Certainly for me. The cold, nostalgic, desert wind upon my face—

— Dead, lost, gone. There was nothing left. My people were dead and the wind that moment confirmed this to me.

They watched me—watched my moves—watched my limited, insignificant moves. I stared back, and if ever a glare could destroy, none would look me in the eyes, especially these six. The cold restraints….

…Restraints. I can't help but laugh at the utter irony. Chained to a boulder, prepared for execution: this sounds oddly familiar; a prisoner, bound by chains, and a captor, prepared and unmoved. Perhaps I would have tried harder to escape if I had any energy at all. In result of the torturous days to precede, I had been drained of all energy beside that to hold up my head.

The Sage of Water held the white sword that was to be the bane of my existence. "By the power of the goddesses themselves, we find you guilty of crimes against humanity. Your sentence: death."

I could only scowl. How could the gods betray me? How could Din ignore me in my greatest time of need? How could the Sage of Spirit, Nabooru, watch as the only link to her own blood was lost? How could _this_ be happening to _me_, the Great King of the Gerudo? For all of my hard work, I was to be slain, like _that_?

"Though you deserve otherwise, your death will be swift. This sword is created with a magic spell you know nothing of. It will kill you swiftly, and my your soul—if you have one left—be freed from his foul body of evil." The Sage of Light said, less than honorably. "For the light you have darkened…"

"…for the deaths of innocent people…"

"…for the forests you have poisoned…"

"…for the spirits you have corrupted…"

"…for the flames of despair, sorrow, and destruction which you wrought to this land…"

"…and for the flows you have disturbed."

And with those _wonderful_ words of _inspiration_, the thrust the sword though my chest.

Wondrous, ye wondrous day that was. Cold, bitter cold, a race completely submerged from memory. My people, all that I had—what I fought for—what I _defended_—were killed or had otherwise disappeared in my century-long absence. Yes, 'lights I had darkened,' 'spirits I have corrupted,' of course. The desert sun burns relentlessly, and the moon chills to the very bone. Clouds served as a protective shield against the immense heat—a _defense_ to my people. Even after their light had only slightly faded, the Hylians still had plenty for themselves and others. Yet, as my people continue to struggle, they complain.

I could only agree with she who killed me; "The flows I have disturbed…."

I defied fate.

And I did it again, before their very eyes.

Briefly, so briefly it seemed that I could not remain with my body. I held only my left hand, somehow the only thing I could stay in contact with. Cold, in the dark of the night, so cold.

'Why have you forsaken me?' I could not speak, yet as a spirit, my words were heard by the ears of Din herself.

I felt something. Warm, yes warmth had returned. A feeling—that _great feeling_—of _power_ was returning to me. I felt it in my hand: The warm glow! The Triforce of Power itself! Even after the Sages relieved it of my grasp, Din graciously returned it to me. Praise Din, Goddess of Power, Mother to all Gerudo!

I regained control of my body quickly and my energy was fully replenished in little more than an instant. What a felling! How exhilarating! Wondrous! I couldn't withstand a chuckle—even now I could do so at the mere memory. I opened my eyes and, with stronger, instantly vivid senses, saw my surroundings. They had no idea that I had returned so soon; they were about to leave when I clenched my fists and, with new-found strength, began pulling at the chains on my wrists. I groaned at the stress of the goron-forged metal, but I could feel it giving way.

My strength was undefeatable.

My right hand gave way first—the hand in which the Triforce of Power dwells. The sages were surprised—no, stunned in the utter fear—and for good reason; but when they took in the sight—the undeniable _proof_—that I had been blessed by the Goddess herself… such fear, unbelief: there are no words to describe them, and equally as many to accurately describe myself. I suppose some would call me a monster, some a demon, and many, the King of Evil. But what is a King of Evil to a race of evil? Wouldn't a god seem demonic to a demon? These words—monster, demon, or evil—are subject to opinion, and their meanings are no more than that.

The chain began to give way; bolts were stretching at the strain I gave them. I felt my body grow warm in place of the cold that I had been submerged in for so long. A fire was being kindled within me, and I grew stronger and stronger. I could not waste any energy; I regained it far too quickly to have that capability.

The chain finally gave way, and I was set free. My first target—an old ruler in the line of Zora Royalty—was Ruto, the Sage of Water that stood before me; the Sage that had briefly ended my life. I sprinted forward, probably faster than the six of them ever though possible, and ripped the mask—the only thing holding the Sages' spirit in tact—from her "face" and threw it to the ground. The body once controlled by the sage disintegrated the instant the mask left her "face."

The others, so old, so frail, shuddered and cowered away in fear. Their moans, in this case somewhat similar to a human's scram of fear, echoed through the grounds of the arbiter.

I laughed. I laughed as I felt my strength return to me, as I felt my strength flood my body. How could I _survive_ without this? Even now I cannot fathom such a cold, dead prospect. In my vigor, I ripped the white sword—the Sword of the Sages—from my chest without so much as an instant of pain. Already, I was as strong and powerful as an immortal. The blood that leaked from my chest had turned to the color of liquid pearls. I laughed with more strength than before; there was, after all, no sword to impair my breath.

So cold, so dismal, should have been the wind's turn to them. They knew that there was no way to destroy me themselves: only one had the ability to face me, and even_ he_ needs something greater: The Master Sword.

But the sages would never let Hyrule fall into danger—they would rather destroy another world than expose this one to danger. As I stood, watching them with power in my eyes, they all turned simultaneously to their only savior: the Twilight Mirror. It was an object I had only read about in old studies and heard of though rumor in the prison. It was a bright thing, but none could truly call it a mirror. I eyed it suspiciously as the backside carved from stone flipped to reveal an engraved, light surface. As soon as it had stopped moving, a bright yellow and white light shone forth from it, creating a portal to the Twilight Realm on the boulder behind me.

I could feel it pull.

It was pulling me, picking me up and carrying me away. I fought it, for I knew the consequences of letting it take me. My immortality cannot hide my history; I am but a human. I did not have the ability to live in the Twilight Realm, for the world was half in light and half in dark. The darkness would strengthen me to that of a God. The light, however, would destroy me as it attacked the dark magic in my veins like a virus. If I was wielder of the white arts, I would simply become a beast parallel to my nature. Others would, eventually, become the same as the Twili citizens: pale and dark-skinned creatures, ignorant to feelings of revenge, hate, wonder, even excitement.

What the light and dark would do to me is much more distasteful; it would tear me apart, the light taking my body and destroying it as the dark fueled my spirit. I would be a spirit without a body, unable to leave the Twilight Realm personally, for one need a physical body to move back and forth between worlds.

I struggled to hold myself in place. The white Sword of the Sages was ripped from my tight grasp, and I could feel myself failing to hold myself to my desert sands. I let loose one last roar before being pulled apart and into the hell that the few who knew about it called the Twilight Realm.


	2. Zant

Zant

How unkind is the Twilight. How very empowering was the darkness, yet how destructive, relentless, even evil was the light. What was my body—the particles in the air—never reformed the same way. The light, aiming to destroy my soul, mutilated and destroyed my body as the darkness, striving to recreate my body, strengthened my soul.

By no means was this either quick or painless.

It was only because I had no body that my pain was unheard. Had I the ability, my presence would have been known to all.

Even now, though, I cannot discern whether it was a preferred result.

I am sure that I was slowly being ripped apart for years. Though I had no physical body, I eventually learned to will my own movement. It must have been at least two years since I was sent there when a creature, a boy no more than perhaps twenty years old and a native to the Realm, appeared. By this point, my body was ling since gone, and my spirit remained strong and alive. There was a cloud about me glowing orange as the light and twilight worked against the enormous amounts of darkness in the air and emitting from my spirit.

But I digress. This boy, the native, attracted my attention, not because of his position—which was simply luck on my part—but because of his emotion; he showed hatred, lust, and anger. He was the only Twilight Being that felt these things; I took advantage of it—such feeling make on easy to manipulate, after all.

"It's not fair! All I've done, it's just not fair!" This boy repeated over and over until he finally shouted, "I should have been king, not his bratty daughter!"

So, he wanted to be king? So be it.

While he was ceaselessly pounding his head into the floor of the balcony, I approached him from my hiding place in the clouds of Twilight. He looked up and stared at me.

I will never forget the face he gave me;

He looked like he was about to bow to me. So quickly, I could see in his eyes, he was more than willing—seemingly _honored_—to accept me as his _god_. He stood and watched as the battling light and dark engulfed him.

I studied him momentarily. "I shall house my power in you. If there is anything you desire, I shall desire it too." And with that, I joined my soul to his, protecting my soul within a stronghold that would repel the light that was to destroy me.

I only mention the light for this reason:

Through the hatred, anger, lust, and envy, the darkness of his world flowed to and into him, empowering his anger and my soul. No longer did I struggle to live—I grew strong and even safe in immortality.

* * *

"Shall I go on?"

…

"Of course."

* * *

'My god—' he would address me as such '—what would you have me do?'

'Take the throne.' I told him. Telepathy was an easy way to communicate.

'Sire?'

'It will be simple enough, with the aid of _my _power.'

'…I…but how?'

'Do not fret; I shall guide your every move if need be. Just be open to my power, and all shall be clear.'

'…Yes, my god.'

He would move swiftly and smoothly through the castle. The Twili—Zant, so I found out—took some time getting used to moving and using my powers and sharing his body with a sorcerer as powerful as I. An entire month passed before I could begin to formulate any plan without rousing Zant's question; though I didn't let him hear my thoughts when I didn't want him to, he could sense when my own spirit meditated.

It took me another three months to formulate a decent plan and set it into action.

He hesitated before the door to the throne room. I could sense his fear; he knew that what he was doing was dangerous. 'Why do you hesitate?" I urged. 'You deserve the throne. It can be yours; just do as I say….'

'The throne….' He though a moment, and I briefly helped him make a decision. Eventually, he opened the door and made his way to the well-guarded Queen of Twili.

As he approached, I whispered in his mind, 'Let me speak. Say nothing, I'll form your words in your place.' He was willing; I was after all, attacking the Queen—and a friend from childhood.

'Don't hurt her.' He told me quietly. 'Whatever happens, I don't want her hurt.'

'Do not worry. I answered. 'She will remain unharmed.'

I quietly took control of his body, feeling so free in my movements again. I walked up the steps to the Twilight Queen.

"Zant!" She cried, surprised. She stood and rushed over to hug her friend. She wrapped her arms around him for a few seconds before she pulled away and looked worriedly into his—my, rather—eyes. "Zant… are you okay?" She put a hand to his forehead, as if to feel his temperature. I thought it strange that he would hold such anger against his close friend, but, then again, power corrupts, as I, myself, have seen.

Using Zant's thought process, I devised an answer. "I'm fine. Actually, never better!" I placed his hand on her back. "Please, join me outside. I would like to speak with you…" when I noticed that we were being followed by her guards, I added, "…alone."

She turned to her guards and nodded. They stayed behind, eyeing me suspiciously. They didn't trust me, whether it was because I created an aura of darkness or because it was well known (by even the Queen) that he envied her for her obvious favor with the king and, later, the throne she inherited. I, as a complete bystander, find his plight little more than petty. He has a weak soul and wants a power he cannot hope to control. Nonetheless, his petty circumstances did not affect his use to me.

I lead her to a balcony that overlooked her entire kingdom. The people below where bustling in excitement and fervor of everyday life. We looked down upon it quietly before the Queen broke the silence. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

I let Zant speak this time. "It is. It's almost magical."

"I find it hard to believe that the gods condemned us to live here; I believed that it was a blessing!" She said, almost enamored in the world she viewed below. It was at this moment that I knew Zant to be blind. The Twilight Queen loved her people and her world. She would protect it if it was the last thing she could do. We both know that….

"The gods didn't condemn us; the Being of Light did." I said quietly. "The Spirits of Light sealed our power away in this realm where it could not be used and the Sages of that world still condemn their own to slowly die as the Twilight eats away at their soul…."

The Twilight Queen looked up at her childhood friend in worry. "Zant, where do you know all this from?"

I turned and looked at her. "I apologize, Princess, but there has been… a change." She backed away a little, surprised with the tone of voice that I colored Zant's voice with. "You see, _I_ will be king." I gave a cruel grin that she obviously was unfamiliar with.

"Zant? Zant, what are you doing?" She cried.

I laughed, but I was disappointed with the sound. It was rather… weak… but I digress. I raised Zant's hand and tensed his fingers into a claw. The earth began to shake, throwing the Twilight Queen to the ground. Suddenly, the castle broke away from the mainland and rose up into the air. The immense village down below disappeared beneath cloud, accessible to only those already in the village or those with the magical abilities I had given Zant.

Oh, the exhilarating sensation of power! The power at my fingertips—Zant is, after all, mine to control—only grew. It filled me, even consumed me. It overwhelmed Zant, and I let it. The fear on the Queen's face: enlightening. How wonderful it felt to be feared; how empowering to _know_ that I was feared by others!

Zant's enthusiasm was just as evident. I gave him a taste of a power he never would have dreamed of if I had not given it to him. He was willing to do whatever I commanded of him.

The Queen got to her feet and raised her hands, ready to use the magic her ancestors had bestowed upon her. I could only laugh once more. "That _pitiful_ magic? You think you can stop me with _that pitiful_ magic?"

She began to back away, but Zant advanced her. He, following his instinct, used the power at his disposal to compromise her abilities. "Zant, your orders were clear—"

"Ah, but there is a _new_ order now." He answered, still advancing her.

Her attempt of self control was obvious, but not as blatant as her fear. She held one hand up, saying, "Stop," as if she had any real command.

Zant chuckled. "You command me? I think a lesson needs to be learned here…." Using what information I gave him, he found a little magic spell he could cast on her. No words were necessary—all spells I know need not be spoken. He merely waved his hand in front of him, throwing his childhood friend to the ground with my magic. Her form suddenly altered, shrinking and distorting until she was no more than an imp. She slowly sat up, confused even before she realized what had happened to her. She looked herself over; her hands were small and fragile, which matched her small feet nicely. Her eyes were large, like eyes on a child, and they glowed red in fear and failure. She stood no more than three feet high and the proportions of her body were almost distasteful.

Still, I less than pity Zant. He transformed his only friend into an imp, still failing to realize what good his beloved friend was to the Twilight Realm. She should have been the start of a Golden Age; instead, her era was cut short and an era of darkness was begun, by her friend no less.

I do not plan to help him further, in case _that_ was on your mind.

"I will spare you, dear Princess. I recommend…" I paused where I leaned forward and whispered into her ear, making the helmet Zant wears cover his head, "…you run."

And she did so, only looking back to see her friend assume control of her kingdom. Certainly, alongside longing to help her people, she lust revenge. I could sense the anger that would build in her heart. With that, she would do whatever she had to in order to bring peace and order to her world.

Unfortunately, her world would not be the only one in distress.

* * *

**A/N: I feel this must be explained, for those who didn't catch the drift. Ganondorf is telling his experiences to someone, but that someone (for now) is unknown. You'll find out who it is soon enough, but I'm not about to ruin the surprise here! If ever he's speaking in the present tense, it's because he's speaking presently to someone. I believe all of my tenses are correct...**

**I know I threw a twist on Zant. I think that Zant and Midna were both friends before this war broke out (if you can call it a war). I also feel that Ganondorf may not have had quite the right feel in this one, meaning that I didn't explain enough of the feelings he had, silly as that sounds. If anyone else agrees, please let me know. So, Comments, Questions, Critiques, but PLEASE no Flames!  
**


	3. Hyrule

HYRULE

You're surrounded by darkness, dear Princess. Do not assume that all is dark and bleak simply by my doing….

…you sneer. As you please; it will gain you nothing.

* * *

A darkness had fallen upon the Twilight Realm—one that seemed unnatural to even its half-light. The ground was covered in a layer of dust, and in some places, like some villages and even the castle, a fog masked the true beauty and replaced it with a mutating murkiness.

I will specify now that this darkness is not something I promoted. Zant's destruction is not mine. His is a vengeful, uncontrollable darkness; he is ignorant and incompetent. I had but one reason to allow this darkness to rage on: it was with his body that I could eventually leave the Twilight Realm. Once this was accomplished… well, you can see the outcome.

Soon, the Twili began to change into creatures of Zant's creation. You have seen them; the faceless creatures of mere shadow that capture the light of your world and torture your light spirits. These are not of my doing, but of Zant's.

By this point, the Twilight Realm was Zant's to control by will. Whatever he wanted, he received, and this was true not just by law, but by action. _Never_ were his commands ignored.

It was then when my chance for redemption—and ultimate revenge—had come. The combined powers of Twili, Gerudo, and Din allowed us to create a new portal between the Twilight Realm and the Land of Hyrule. With the darkness in our magic, we did not create true portals, but rather rifts between lands. Only Midna, the true heir of the Twili Throne, could open true portals.

"My Lord, where are we going?" Zant asked me, and to this I replied, "To another world; the world from which the three Golden Goddesses banished your ancestors. This will be another world to become yours to rule—second only to me. This world is known as Hyrule."

He stared at the rift above us in wonder. "Hyrule…." I urged him along, his army loyally following.

Do you have any idea what it felt like to be free of that insatiable Twilight?—well, of course, you have never even felt its cruelty. You could never imagine the relief of seeing freedom surround you after two years of seclusion. _You_ probably didn't even know I was a threat two years ago, did you? A nineteen year old girl has no right to rule a country while her father still lives, so why know of the dangers and politics of your country? Such has been the Hylian standard of women for centuries—even before my time…. But that would not matter; nothing could be done by even your father to prepare for my return.

…And that, my dear, brings us to _your_ little role in your play. With the army of Twili at my disposal, I was able to break through your city's defenses. It was an easy victory, Princess—the easiest, I would even venture to say. Your men need work; not a single man even posed a suitable threat to a child.

You remember his words, in no way aided by mine; "It is time for you to choose: surrender or die. Oh yes, a question for all the land and people in Hyrule…. Life? Or death?"

I must admit, I was surprised to see you drop that sword so soon. I cannot imagine your ancestor having so freely and willingly given up. I couldn't help but laugh to myself, unheard by you or anyone else. You were escorted away and your soldiers were sent to the Castle Town.

'Sit upon the throne,' I urged Zant, and he moved forward slowly. He could not even begin to comprehend what his actions could possibly entail. Before the throne, he hesitated. The boy has a conscience, that much must be said; but, as a hate-filled mind tends to be, his will was easy to bend. 'This hesitancy will by the destruction of you,' I warned.

"…This… doesn't feel right…." he said aloud.

'Of course it doesn't. You have yet to sit,' I told him.

He looked at it for a moment longer before turning and sitting within. My gratification became his, and his gratification loosened his stiff back. He relaxed and let the Hylian velvet comfort him after the travel and short-lived battle.

'These are the luxuries of the Hylians?' he once asked me. He sounded hurt by the combination of your cruelty and selfishness.

* * *

Later that night, as Zant sat back in the throne, I spoke to him: "I will remain only so long as I can recreate my body. Once this is complete, I will leave you and sit where you do."

This seemed to cause a twinge of worry, but certainly not in the way I had expected. "But, My Lord, I cannot keep control over even the Twili if you leave me! What will I do?"

"Fear not. Recreating my body will take quite a bit of time. I shall remain a while longer."

"B-but, My Lord—"

"You fear for the future. If you did not, you would be a fool. Do not fear, however; when I leave you, a fraction of my power shall be left to you. I would not leave such a close disciple to death."

He heaved a sigh of relief here to which I silently laughed.

I did find it quite strange how he was so very willing to abandon the throne of your country for the throne of his own. Perhaps he didn't know the glory of it? Or perhaps he was more loyal than I ever imagined? Whatever the case, dear Princess, your kingdom was mine as soon as Zant walked your soil.

* * *

**I know this has been slow, and it probably will be for quite while, and I apologize. This was done for a while, but I don't get to a computer often enough to just write whenever I feel the need, so I write it down on paper first-all of my stories are done that way. So, I write them, and copy them onto the computer. So, that's my excuse, though I know it's a horrible one.**

**Also, I think there is something I may need to say for all those confused readers; I firmly believe in the split time-line theory, and that the Twilight Princess takes place after the Ocarina of Time where Link is no longer in the picture and Ganondorf had been sent to the Sacred Realm. I have NUMEROUS reasons why it makes sense to put the game there; for one, Ganondorf's rather insane in the TP (which only progresses to WW), which likely came from his imprisonment, and eventual escape just to find his people either dead or fled. The second is Link; he is brown-haired and seemed to come from nowhere (that nowhere being Ordon) with no family to speak of. Next, there's the geography of the world; after the OoT, there was a huge lava pit where the castle was. It would only make sense to move the location of the next castle. The could have gone norhward. They do that, find snowey mountains just north of them, trees grow northward as well, engulf Lon Lon Ranch, which grows into a town and voila, you've got Ordon. There are a few similar outcomes if they moved southward, which geographically looks better, but in some ways doesn't match up-Zora's Domain's location is an example of "looking better." The final and most important point is the _the bearers had the Triforce, namely Ganondorf!_ At the end of the OoT on the MM side of the timeline, none of them have the Triforce; Ganondorf had not invaded the Sacred Realm, so the Triforce was undisturbed; why would it, then, come to Ganondorf to save him from death-and why would he be put in a prison for only the most wanted criminals of Hyrule if the Imprisoning War never took place? It wouldn't happen. If the TP truly is in this side of the time-line, Nintendo is missing a chapter in the Hyrulian History, and people cannot guess another adventure to accurately put between. And, I'd even go so far to say that if Nintendo thinks that TP should be on the first side of the time-line, they should explain why. And unless someone has some _darn_ good reasons why I'm wrong, I probably won't change my perspective. I'm open to thoughts, however! (And this is not meant to bash anyone's theories or beliefs. I'm just feeling a bit cranky over it is all, so PLEASE do NOT consider it anger directed at any one person!)**

**Anyway, despite my half over-tired rant, I hope you enjoy the story for stories' sake. I think the next chapter will be more of a discussion between the Princess and Ganondorf rather than story-telling like this was.**


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